Crippling Love
by Rainbow Volcano
Summary: Alfred and Arthur are strictly platonic, no-homo friends. Which would be perfectly fine if Alfred wasn't so painfully head over heals for his British pal. One night, after an action movie at the theater, Alfred can no longer bear his one-sided feelings, and decides to do something about it. But how will straight Arthur react? USUK, 2-shot
1. So Close, Yet So Far

The lights of the theater turned back on, the drowsy audience members startled by its sudden presence. I yawned and stretched my arms far up above my head before slowly rising to my feet. Others around me did the same before filing out of the theater. Some lingered and chatted with their neighbors about the movie, but most were just about ready for bed. I can't blame them; a 10:00 showing was pretty late at night.

Arthur tried to rub the drowsiness from his eyes, but with little success. He, too, yawned and stretched, still dogged with sleepiness. I gave him an amused but pained smile. He would hate me if he knew my thoughts. See, we're the kind of friends who always make fun of each other. Teasing, playful banter, but often followed with a snicker of understanding. When I told him I was bisexual, he gave me a giant hug and thanked me for telling him. We've been making jokes and laughing normally ever since. How disgusted he'd be to know that I'd fallen for him.

"So, what'd you think?" I asked, to clear my mind of the poisonous thoughts. He blinked a few times, still not quite awake. Unlike me, the dude probably dozed off during the movie.

"Hello, Earth to Arthur. Anything in that head? A brain maybe? Even a small one?" This time, he snapped back to attention and looked at me.

"Hm? Sorry, didn't catch that. What did you say?" he asked, rubbing his eyes once more. I chuckled and sinfully noted how adorable he looked when sleepy.

"Well, I was going to ask if you liked the movie. But I'm guessing you didn't catch most of it?" I smirked and nudged him in the arm. He nodded dully after some time.

"Oh, right. It wasn't boring, I swear. I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night and it's really late, and, yes."

"Great sentence ender there, Pinocchio."

"Well, it's true!" he argued, cheeks puffed in annoyance. Again, downright adorable.

"Heh, no worries. It's hard to stay awake through a movie when they show it this late at night. Even when it's an action-packed murder mystery," I offered, to quell his displeasure. He nodded again, but with more enthusiasm this time.

I glanced around the theater to find it still half full of stragglers and night-owls. But I knew that once we left, we'd have to say goodbye. I still wanted more time with him, even if it was just platonic, strictly no-homo time. I looked up to the light box in the back of the theater; small, secluded, and unoccupied. Perfect.

"Hey, Arthur, have you ever been in the light box?" He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. Somehow, incredibly endearing.

"The light box? What's that?" he asked. I dutifully pointed to the window in the rear of the theater.

"That's the light box. It's where they control all the lights. House lights, spot lights, disco lights, and any other kind of light you can imagine! Come on, I'll show you!" I grabbed his wrist then dashed towards the entrance. I don't normally grab his wrist when leading him places, but he was definitely still lagging from his nap and I wasn't about to pass up an opportunity. I released his arm once we reached the door and ignored the "employees only" sign as I swung it open. I held it open wide for him and bowed low like a butler.

"Ladies first, my good madam."

"Oh, sod off, you big twat!" he argued, stifling a laugh. I winked at him and he rolled his eyes, but did indeed go in the door first. I creaked the door shut behind us as we walked up the dim steps to the control station.

"And… Voila! The grand controls for all lights in the theater! Are you impressed, young Padawan?" I gestured with both arms towards the command center, right in front of the open window to see into the theater. There was only one small group left in the theater now, much to my deplorable delight.

"Wow, look at all these buttons and levers! I never knew you needed this many controls just for lights," he stated, observing the station. He pressed his stomach to the edge as he peered at all the strange switches up and down the rows, wondering silently what each did. How on earth is it possible for someone to be so adorable while doing something so mundane?

I sighed quietly and allowed a bittersweet smile to slip on my face. Coming up behind him, I reached around his petite frame to demonstrate how to dim and lighten the house lights. I also explained him how the disco lights would work, should the need for a musical disco ever arise.

"Are you sure we should be up here? There was a sign about employees only, right?" he asked, suddenly feeling worried. The theater was now completely empty, leaving just the two of us alone in the tiny light box. I laughed, loud and reverberating.

"That's just so they don't get strangers tampering with the lights. This is some expensive equipment, you know. Can't be too careful," I answered, still positioned behind him. He turned around to face me, possibly admit to my genius, when he stopped and noticed just how close we were. Mere inches apart.

Our breaths, shaky and shallow, mingled in the tiny space between our faces. We looked anywhere but each other's' eyes, both afraid of two entirely different things. I was afraid of losing control, and he was afraid because he didn't know what was happening.

But at last, green met blue and in that instant, I completely lost my resolve. To hell with no-homo, to hell with platonic best friend. I was in love with him, and he was right in front of me.

I reached up a hesitant hand to gently cup his cheek. He didn't move from my touch, so I gently leaned forward, eyes alert for any signs of feedback. I inched ever closer. But in the last instant before our lips met, he squeezed his eyes shut and flinched away from my hand.

I let my hand fall down to my side, and instead rested my forehead atop of his. Swallowing my tears, I sighed and chuckled humorlessly.

"Dude, what's with these scrunched up eyebrows? If you keep doing that, they'll be stuck that way forever. And then you'll look eternally like you've got a unibrow!" I pulled away and took three large steps back, distancing myself as much as possible in the tiny room. He looked at me with pleading eyes, a horrific mixture of panic and chaos swirling in his once perfect emerald pools. I gave him a shaky smile, which was supposed to be reassuring but was the best I could do in the circumstances.

"Come on, we should go." I lead the way back down the stairs, and opened the door for him once more. We walked out of the theater, an uncomfortable silence passing between us.

I so badly wanted to kick myself. I knew he was straight. I knew it! I should never have tried to kiss him. If I haven't scared the hell out of him, which I'd probably done, at the very least now things were going to be incredibly difficult between us. If he ever was willing to look me in the eyes again, all our jokes and lighthearted insults would be so strained and tense.

Finally, we reached the parking lot. I waved goodbye and began to walk away, trying to look as calm as possible. After a few paces, I heard his desperate plea.

"Alfred?"

I stopped, tears pooling in my eyes. I couldn't turn around, that would make him feel bad. I couldn't run away, that would hurt him too. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and waited for him to ask a number of painful questions.

"Were you…going to kiss me? And if you were… why did you stop?"

Ah, yes. Get right down to business. No beating around the bush. I spent a few moments trying to figure out the best way to tell him without sounding like a creeper.

"Tell me. If I did kiss you, what would you do?" Great, answer a question with a question. Wonderful. I'm sure that didn't seem horrible at all. I could hear him shift uncomfortably, and probably crossing his arms over his chest.

"I… I don't know. I mean, I'm straight, but that didn't seem so… wrong, exactly. But I think it would still be strange," he replied after a long time. I sighed. Another might've gotten hope from that statement, but not me. I felt him flinch in my arms; I saw that fear on his face. Maybe he would go on one day to discover he was bisexual or gay, but not for me.

"Then there's your answer."

I stood still a while longer, still wanting to say more but not trusting myself to keep my façade. Any moment I was sure I'd burst into tears. Eventually, I got my overflowing emotions down enough to utter a few final words before disappearing into the night.

"Goodnight, Arthur. And… I'm sorry."

* * *

A/N: I know, I know, I promised a Disney crossover. But this was inspired by my real life issues, so I just had to write to vent. And don't worry, this will have a happy ending. (Unlike my life T^T).


	2. Ghost of a Kiss

It had been nearly a month since that fateful night, and absolutely nothing had been right between us ever since. I've had trouble sleeping, and every morning I'd find the bags on my eyes growing. I knew exactly why; it's because I hadn't spoken with my best friend for three and a half weeks. But every time I tried to approach Alfred, he ran away. I can't blame him of course. After all, he barred his heart out to me and I crushed him in return.

It's been eating me inside. I feel so guilty, so awful. He was my best friend, and I never wanted to hurt him. But in my head are these swirling, paradoxical messages. I've never felt any attraction towards other men, yet when I remember his breath on mine, I can't help but wonder what it would've been like. The worst part is that I so badly want to give him an answer one way or the other, but I can't.

My roommate and good friend Kiku must've noticed my brooding, as he sat down next to me with two cups of tea. He didn't say anything, but he cast furtive glances in my direction every so often. I'm certain Alfred told him what had happened between us since Kiku is our mutual friend. And I'm certain he has many questions, but is far too polite to ever ask. It's been so long now though; I suppose I owe the bloke some answers.

"I bet you're wondering what's been going on in my head," I began, lifting my teacup to my face.

"Hai, that is true. But you seem to not know the answer yourself," he replied calmly. I sighed, bringing the teacup back down to the table.

"Oh, Kiku. I just don't understand. All I know are facts that contradict each other. I know I want to spend more time with Alfred, but I also know it's because we're friends. I know that I liked the feeling, but I also know I'm not attracted to other men. Oh, what do I do?" I rested my head in my hands, hopelessly grabbing at my bangs. He stayed silent a moment before he gave his folksy advice.

"I'm afraid I am not an expert in this subject. But I do know that there are many forms of love, some that disguise themselves as another until the time is right." He always was a bit of a cryptic guru. I lowered my hands and looked over at him. He offered a smile, reassuring smile.

"Thank you, but I'm afraid that still doesn't solve my problem."

"Perhaps you should ask Francis? He is very knowledgeable on this subject." My nose crinkled in disgust.

"I'd sooner toss myself off a cliff than ask that wanker for help!" I exclaimed. Kiku returned to his neutral face and we continued our afternoon without discussing the subject again. I hated to admit it, but he was right. If anyone on this blue earth could help me, it would be the French tosser. But the only way I'd ever get advice from him is if he came to me first. And that was just about as likely as a warthog befriending a meerkat.

* * *

The following day, I was seated at an outdoor table on campus, alone save for the company of my novel. Normally, I'd eat here with Alfred on sunny days where he would chatter nonsense for hours. I suddenly longed to hear his voice, or even any voice for that matter. The silence was stifling.

"Bonjour! It is I, Big Brother Francis!" I cringed. The universe must think itself funny.

"Oh, brilliant. Bugger off, Frog!"

"Mon dieu, I knew you were rude, but you don't have to be so mean! I was considering helping you, but not if you're going to be like that." He strolled up to my table and oh so daintily sat in the chair across from me. Which is the exact opposite of what I'd asked him to do earlier.

"Whatever. It's not like I need your help," I scoffed, returning my attention to my novel. Perhaps if I ignored him, he'd go away.

"Oh? The way I heard it, you were in an intense internal struggle, torn between friendship and romance!"

"What the-? How did you know about that?" I looked up again, now curious.

"So it's true?" he asked, an evil smirk forming on his face. Damn that sneaky twit.

"No! I didn't- Just sod off, would you?" I placed a mark in my novel and slammed it on the table. He didn't seem the least bit deterred.

"I take that to mean everything between you and Alfred is perfect, and your relationship is crystal clear?" Blast, that can only mean Kiku told him. I let out a long sigh, finally surrendering. I needed help after all, and here it was on a silver platter.

"No, it's not. It's a bloody mess."

"Oui. So, I was thinking I might be able to help you." I raised an eyebrow skeptically.

"Why would you want to do that? You hate me," I argued. Kiku may have told him the situation, but it wasn't like the frog to do charity work for his enemy.

"True, but I hate the thought of an unhappy couple even more. Besides, you're unpleasant enough without relationship problems. I can't imagine how horrific you'd be with them! C'est terrible!" He raised an overdramatic hand to his forehead and pantomimed fainting. I rolled my eyes.

"Fine. So, what do you suggest?"

"First, I need to know what you're feeling," he offered, his tone suddenly shifting to serious.

"Oh, right. I'll just waltz right up and pour out my heart to my nemesis. It's a bloody brilliant plan. Flawless, even! Job well done mate!" He rolled his eyes. I honestly don't know what he was expecting.

"I don't need any of your sarcasm. How am I supposed to help if I don't understand what you want?" I sighed. As much as I didn't want to trust him, I needed to sort things out between me and Alfred, which first meant sorting myself out. Yes, Alfred. I could endure 100 frogs for him.

"All right. I promise I'll be cooperative."

"Finalement. So, first, describe to me what it felt like to be almost kissed, to feel his breath hot upon your lips," he explained, drawing out the words in his eerie French way.

"This is starting to get really creepy," I complained. He frowned.

"Describe it!"

"Ok, all right!" I had promised that I would be cooperative. I thought back to that night, the two of us alone in the tiny room, my body squeezed between his and the control center. I remembered my head spinning, and my heart rattling against my chest. In a word, it was…

"Exhilarating. I'd never felt so, so… _alive._ "

"Did you like it?" he asked, all hints of teasing gone from his voice. I felt reassured.

"Oh, I loved it. Without a doubt it was impossibly lovely." Even if it was only the ghost of a kiss.

"Why did you flinch and turn him down?" he asked slowly.

"My brain woke up. Alfred was my friend. And a man."

"What's wrong with two men liking each other?" he questioned, a bit tense. Francis was a huge LGBT activist, and well known on campus for his strikes against strange things for the cause. I held up my hands in defense.

"Nothing, nothing at all. It's just… I'm straight. I have been since the day I was born," I explained. I was all for gay rights, and I thought that all men and women who liked each other should be free to do so without judgement. But I would never get together with another man. I couldn't. I shouldn't. Not even if it were Alfred. Francis shook his head sadly and looked to a distant point.

"What does it matter the gender of a person? They are themselves, regardless of what reproductive organs they possess. In the same way, love is love. No matter whom it's for or why."

Kiku's words rang in my head, "There are many forms of love, some that disguise themselves as another until the time is right." Suddenly, something inside me clicked. What he meant was that the love I'd always felt for Alfred as my friend may not be so different from the love I'd feel for him if we were in a relationship. As sappy as that sounded, I think he was right. I looked to Francis with a new revelation inside my head, suddenly pleading for advice on action.

"Francis. What do I do?" He looked back to me and smiled.

"Listen to your heart. It knows you better than your brain thinks it does," he commanded. In a way, that was true. Brains change very much over the course of a human life, but hearts tend to remain the same. Both figuratively and literally.

"But how? Alfred won't listen to me anymore."

"He will. Just tell him the truth."

* * *

Tell him the truth, he said. Like it would just be so simple. Like I could even articulate it in the first place.

I found Alfred rather easily – in the cafeteria, eating away at a seemingly endless supply of cheeseburgers. But confronting him would be another matter entirely. Though perhaps now was the best time, since he'd be happily distracted enough for me to approach before he ran away. I took a deep breath and walked over.

"Alfred, I need to speak with you." He looked up from his meal, but then immediately the blood drained from his face. He suddenly looked altogether so guilty and so lonely that it broke my heart. He nodded and stood up, eyes trained on the floor. We walked to the greenhouse, a sweltering but private place available only to gardening club members, to which I just so happened to belong. Before I could begin to explain myself, however, Alfred spoke up.

"Arthur I'm so so so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you, honest I didn't, I don't even know what I was thinking! I was just being stupid, and I wish it never happened because then we could still be friends and I'll do anything please I'm so sorry!" I was taken aback. He wished it never happened? Does that mean it didn't matter to him, that he didn't enjoy it at all? No, I couldn't just assume that. He was the one most hurt in this. But I had to know. Only one way to find out.

"Do you love me?" I asked, with baited breath. I wasn't sure what I wanted the answer to be, but I knew what I didn't want to hear. Alfred grabbed his arm and clenched.

"Yes. With all my heart." Suddenly that feeling of my brain swirling and my heart pounding came back, a cacophony of happiness.

"Then… kiss me," I whispered. Honestly I had no idea where the request came from, but I couldn't deny that I wanted it. His eyes widened in shock.

"What? But you- you're straight. Wouldn't it creep you out? Like last time?" Ah, right. Last time. The time that my damned brain decided to be rational and old-fashioned. The time where being under the stupid guise of heterosexuality stopped me from kissing the person I love.

"To be fair, you didn't actually kiss me last time. So, why not actually… go for gold, as they say, this time?" Alfred looked torn between being a good guy and giving in to my request. He wanted to – I could see it in his eyes. But would he be strong enough to feel me flinch in his arms a second time?

Both scared and absolutely delirious, I took a hesitant step closer to him. With the last bit of my courage, I looked up into his eyes, green meeting blue. Our shaky breaths mingled in the space between our faces. Mere inches apart.

Swiftly, Alfred grabbed my shoulder and pressed our lips together. For a moment, I stood stone-cold still, completely terrified of all the self-imposed rules I was breaking. But then my brain turned off, and instead of kissing a man, I was kissing Alfred. My best friend and the person I loved. It was a whirlwind, much like his personality; incredible intensity and passion all at once. I reached a hand up to his cheek while he wrapped his free arm around my waist. After a bit, he pulled back slightly, worried about my condition. But I locked our lips together once more.

We finally pulled apart, both panting heavily. He gave me a puzzled look, with quite a few questions in mind.

"So… Are you straight or not? Bi, like me?"

"Mm, bisexual I suppose? If I have to choose. Honestly, I don't see the need for such idiotic labels. I'm not in love with you because you're a man. I'm in love with you, who just so happen to be a man." He grinned wide and linked our fingers together.

"This better not be a freaking dream. Please tell me this is real."

"I don't know a lot of things about myself right now, such as my sexual orientation, or even if I'm actually a sensible person like I'd thought. But what I do know is that I'm in love with Alfred, and that's all that matters right now." He grinned ever wider, his contagious smile that always seemed to brighten the world. As we parted ways that night, he was incredibly reluctant to leave, for fear that the next time he saw me I'd still be in denial. I pressed a slow and gentle kiss to his cheek. I whispered a firm promise that I would always love him. If he woke up tomorrow and found that I still considered us platonic friends, he just needed to kiss me senseless and I'd come around again.

* * *

A/N: See? Told ya it'd have a good ending! To be honest, it was incredibly hard to write Arthur's point of view in this, because I wasn't sure what would change a straight person's mind about being in a gay relationship. But I think I did an okay job. Yes? No? Reviews are welcome! (And needed to fill my empty soul)


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